


Prop-rose-al

by sarahcakes613



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: A Wild Pinterest Appears, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, No Actual Sansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5069698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa's Pinterest board leads to Sandor getting repeatedly injured by roses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prop-rose-al

**Author's Note:**

> Entirely inspired by this image:  
> 

The whole damn thing had been Margaery's idea. If he **ever** finished, he would be having words with her. Which, he had to admit to himself, was most likely futile. Having words with her would probably entail him cursing and her nodding, eyes wide and guileless, until he ran out of steam.

Sandor swore as another thorn jabbed him, this time in the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. He didn't understand why the hell the roses weren't dethorned **before** being sold to the general public. Of course, the general public probably wasn't in the habit of buying 200 roses and attempting to hang them from the ceiling.

He hadn't understood when Margie had first shown him the photo. "Sansa pinned this on her dreamboard," she told him. The confusion must have been writ clear on his face, because she elaborated. "I found this on her Pinterest account. She wrote "dream proposal" as the caption!" Sandor knew that Margie knew he'd already bought the ring, and was just waiting for the right moment. It wasn't his fault the right moment hadn't arrived yet! 

"What the hell am I supposed to do with that?" He'd demanded. Margie had rolled her eyes. "You hang the roses, and then when she comes in, you'll be standing there holding the ring." He'd tried to argue that he didn't have time to round up that many roses, but she reminded him that she was a Tyrell, thank you very much, and could connect him to one of their wholesalers. He'd scoffed, at first. Sure, Sansa was a girly-girl, but she knew him. She didn't expect that kind of stuff from him. Margie pointed out that his girly-girl Sansa had surprised him on his birthday with tickets to the Wrestlemania 31 event, even though she hated watching anything more violent than animated coyotes trying to blow up birds. He knew she had a point, so he'd gotten her to email him the photo, along with a link to the Pinterest board.

And now that's why he was here, clipping the damned thorns off of 200 damned roses so he could hang them from the damned ceilings. Margie had taken Sansa out that morning for a "spa day", where the two of them would drink mimosas and Sansa would come home flushed and giddy, toenails painted some obnoxious shade of pink. She'd been gone three hours already and he'd been texting Margie to let her know his progress, so he was pretty sure he could rely on her keeping Sansa out of the apartment for another couple of hours at least.

It was another half hour before the roses were completely thorn free and Sandor could finally start tying them to the ribbons he'd already hung from the ceiling. Of course, the lack of thorns didn't mean there was no longer any danger of injury – he'd figured that out after turning too fast and getting a slap in the face by some roses that were hung at the perfect height to get him in the eye.

He was **definitely** going to be having words with Margaery.

**Author's Note:**

> SanSan fans who headcanon a certain wrestler as Sandor might appreciate a little nod to him hidden in there!


End file.
